If We Lay a Strong Enough Foundation
by Cheeky Slytherin Lass
Summary: Teddy is born, and Remus' life changes forever.:: for Elizabeth


_For the lovely Elizabeth. A belated Merry Christmas to you, darling._

 _Beta'd by the wonderful Kim_

 _Word Count: 1497_

* * *

" _Let me tell you what I wish I'd known, when I was young and dreamed of glory."_

* * *

This is it. Merlin, it's really real.

Remus tries to tell himself over and over again that he's ready for this, but he knows he isn't. He hadn't even wanted a kid. When faced with the prospect of becoming a father, he had stupidly tried to run and join Harry and the others on their mission.

It had been stupid, and he knows it. Those glory days are behind him.

Andromeda appears before him, arms folded over her chest. The way her dark eyes narrow at him tells him that she has yet to forgive him for his attempted disappearing act. Still, there's a faint smile on her lips, despite the clear exhaustion in her face. "Would you like to see him?"

 _Him._ Remus swallows dryly. His son. Merlin, he has a son now.

He nods, and his mother-in-law steps aside. It may take a while for Andromeda to forgive him; he is just grateful Dora doesn't hold it against him.

Dora looks up at him, lips twisting into a small smile. Sweat beads her forehead, and her eyes look like they might close at any minute. "We did it," she tells him, staring down at the small, squirming bundle in her arms.

Remus had been an idiot and a coward. How could he even think about running away? Shame flushes his cheeks with heated color, and his eyes begin to sting. He blinks back the tears, sucking in a deep breath. His smile feels a little shaky, and he can't help but doubt himself. Still, he keeps his head held high.

"Here." Dora leans forward, wincing at the movement, and holds the baby out for Remus.

"Hello, Edward," Remus says as he takes his son and cradles him carefully.

"Teddy," his wife corrects. "Edward sounds like an old man."

"Teddy," he echoes, watching in amusement as Teddy's hair changes from a mousy brown to a bright ginger.

He still remembers holding Harry for the first time. It seems like a lifetime ago, but he remembers with perfect clarity. Harry had been smaller than Teddy, and Teddy doesn't squirm as much as Harry had.

"I did it, Prongs," he whispers. "You would be so proud."

They had all had dreams back then. Even with the war hanging over their heads and the constant reminder that nothing is promised, they had dared to dream of adventures, passion, and glory.

A small laugh escapes Remus' lips. Life hasn't turned out the way he'd planned. His friends are all gone, the war seems to have no end, and every day seems to be a test of bravery and loyalty.

And yet, despite it all, the world still turns. He has a son. From now on, everything he does is for Teddy.

* * *

" _You have no control who lives, who dies"_

* * *

The message arrives, and he doesn't quite know how to feel.

On one hand, he's relieved that the end of the war is finally in sight. He had been so young when he had joined the fight. Maybe he isn't old now, but so much time has passed. It seems like the war has overtaken most of his life. He just wants it to be over.

On the other hand, he has a family, a life, a future. It isn't fair; it hasn't even been a full month since his son's birth. Can he really just walk away now?

Remus squeezes his eyes closed and takes a deep breath. He knows he has to fight. This war has taken so much from him, and he has to finish what he's started. James, Lily, and Sirius wouldn't have hesitated, and neither will he.

He exhales heavily, approaching the cot where Teddy sleeps. He knows he needs to leave, but he wants a chance to say goodbye. There's a chance it will all be for nothing, and he'll come home tonight like nothing has happened. Still, this is war, and war has a casualties.

"I know you won't understand why I'm leaving you," he says, reaching down and stroking Teddy's hair–a dark brown that looks like Andromeda's, though it had been turquoise before Dora had put him down for the night. "I hope that you'll know it's for you. This war has been going since before you were even thought of, and it ends tonight."

He laughs nervously, suddenly feeling silly. He could say anything right now, and it would amount to the same thing. Teddy is too young to comprehend his words. Maybe it's more for his own benefit than Teddy's.

Teddy shifts his arm and rests his tiny hand against Remus' wrist.

"I love you so much," Remus continues. He doesn't try to hide his tears; they freely roll down his cheeks. "I'm going to do everything I can to make it back to you. I promise you that."

Promises are dangerous during a war. He knows all too well that anything and everything can go wrong. How many friends and loved ones has he lost in his thirty-eight years? How many wicked, terrible people still live while some of the kindest lie in coffins.

"Remus?"

He looks up to find Dora in the doorway. Remus swallows dryly, nodding. "You should be resting," he says.

"I'm coming with you."

Of course she would want to fight. She has always been so fiery and wild. Sometimes she reminds him of Sirius so much that his heart breaks all over again.

"Stay here," he says softly.

Her bright eyes narrow, and she takes a step forward. "This is my fight too."

He wishes he could argue and deny it, but he can't. Even if the Death Eaters hadn't killed her father, Dora is too close to it. She didn't have to join the Order, didn't have to fight, didn't have to get involved at all.

"You're staring, Remus."

He offers her a mumbled apology, blushing as he drops his gaze. Dora really is one of the good ones. He wonders how he could be lucky enough to have her in his life.

"I want you to stay, Dora." He looks up again and takes her hand. "Someone has to look after Teddy."

"I will," she assures him. "And so will you. We're coming back."

"You're not going. Please do this for me."

She sighs, and something flickers in her eyes. Annoyance? Bitterness? Remus isn't quite sure. "If it means so much to you."

He wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. This could be his last moment with her. His story might end tonight.

"I love you," he whispers before pressing a kiss to her lips.

* * *

" _Who tells your story"_

* * *

Andromeda hates feeling this way. She's always been so strong, but her strength never fails to fade as the anniversary arrives. Four years ago today, Nymphadora and Remus left her cozy little house; they never came back.

She had spent months being angry with Remus, trying to find new ways to blame him. If he had tried harder to make sure Nymphadora didn't follow him, if he had stayed, if he had done _something_ differently, maybe things could have been different.

Of course, she knows better now. Nymphadora has always been too stubborn for her own good. Sometimes Andromeda would wonder how her daughter hadn't ended up in Gryffindor.

Andromeda sighs and waves her wand. The kettle removes itself from the stove and moves through the air. With another quick wave from Andromeda, it tips forward, pouring steaming water over her tea bag.

The pain hasn't gone away. Some days, it's lessened into a faint throb just beneath the surface of her heart. On the bad days–days like today–the pain is fresh, and she can't seem to escape it. Her heart seems to break all over again.

"Gran!" Teddy hurries into the kitchen, his sock-clad feet causing him to slip and slide slightly as he comes to a stop. "Gran, can I have a bisc– Why are you crying?"

Andromeda wipes her eyes. She hadn't even noticed the tears. "I'm just thinking about your mummy and daddy today," she answers.

Teddy's eyes widen. He moves closer and holds her hand. "Will you tell me about them?"

It's tempting to say no. The grief in her bones is still so heavy, and it feels like it should be hers alone.

Remus and Nymphadora would want their stories told.

Andromeda helps her grandson into a chair. She quickly prepares him a plate of ginger biscuits and a glass of milk before sitting across from him. "Your parents weren't perfect," she says. "But they were amazing, and they loved you more than anything in this world."

As the words spill from her lips, and she tells him story after story about the parents he will never meet, she wonders if it's enough. She can only hope that her words will find a way to keep their legacies alive.


End file.
